


איך ליבע איר ("By God, Newton, stop speaking in Yiddish at me.")

by Maifai



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Angst, Bullying, M/M, Multilingual, Newton gets beat up, On BOTH SIDES, Original Character(s), Pre-Slash, protective hermann, protective newton, protective tendencies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-14
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2017-12-26 12:35:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/965980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maifai/pseuds/Maifai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hermann wakes with a shuddering jolt, lungs tight and breaths short. He has fistfuls of the sheets underneath him, and it takes a few moments before he can force himself to relax enough to release them. He closes his eyes, and tries to breathe deeply. He can feel after effects of the nightmare lingering. Well, not nightmare, exactly. Enough time has passed since he and Newton drifted that he's now able to tell when he's dreaming, and when he's recalling a memory. And that memory was certainly not his.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

 

_"Hey, Einstein!"_

_He hated that name. They always called him that, and he hated it. But he would never tell them, because he thought that if he went along with everything, they would like him. He needed them to like him._

_"Einstein, jump in the pool! Go in the deep end. If you do, Kristen said she'd take her top off for you!"_

_They knew he couldn't swim. He reasoned that they were just too drunk to remember. He faced the pool and rubbed his fingertips together in a nervous gesture. "I think I'll pass," he told them._

_"Jesus, man, don't be a pussy! You're just not interested in Kristen's boobs, huh? I knew it! You're a total faggot!" He couldn't let them think that about him. He'd seen how they treated others accused of homosexuality._

_"No, it's not that-"_

_"Then what're you waiting for?" Two pairs of arms grabbed him and he was being lifted up._

_Panic rushed over him. "No! Wait!" He began to thrash, and they began to laugh. "Please, stop!" They brought him next to the 10ft mark and threw him in. His heart stuttered painfully in his chest. He hit the water and he opened his mouth on reflex, filling his lungs with the burn of chlorine._

_He tried to kick his legs and move his arms, but they had felt so heavy. His eyes were open and he could see faces watching him beyond the surface of the water. None of them made any move to keep him from drowning. The loneliness that gripped him in that moment was more suffocating than the water itself. His fingers scraped against the wall of the pool, and he clawed his way up until he felt the edge. He pulled himself out of the water, adrenaline replacing the strength he lacked. He lay on the concrete, his legs dangled in the pool, and he was choking up water in between terrified gasps._

_"Holy shit, he peed on me!" yelled one of the boys that had thrown him in. There was so much laughter. He shook with self-loathing. He felt so humiliated. So sick. He continued to cough, and eventually he started to spit up bile instead of water._

_Their laughter intensified. "Look at Einstein! He's puking! Shit, I think he's crying!" they crowed with glee._

_"Look at Einstein!"_

 

Hermann wakes with a shuddering jolt, lungs tight and breaths short. He has fistfuls of the sheets underneath him, and it takes a few moments before he can force himself to relax enough to release them. He closes his eyes and tries to breathe deeply. He can feel after effects of the nightmare lingering. Well, not nightmare, exactly. Enough time has passed since he and Newton drifted that he's now able to tell when he's dreaming, and when he's recalling a memory. And that memory was certainly not his.

 

* * *

 

 

Newton trudges through the halls of the Shatterdome, exhaustion sitting heavy on his shoulders. He's lost count of how many hours he spent in the lab. A few days, maybe. He can't remember the last time he ate. His stomach rumbles, and a couple of tired steps later, he finds himself in the mess hall. To his relief, it's mostly empty, save for a few people scattered around some of the tables. He grabs a tray and starts to fill it with what food was left out. He stops in front of the milk cartons and tries to remember if he prefers plain or chocolate milk.

"No freaking way. Is that you, Einstein?"

His heart stops. For a moment, he forgets how to breathe. He swallows dryly and closes his eyes, and tries not to think about the last time he was called Einstein. He opens his eyes before too much time can pass, and prepares to turn around. He can't show weakness. He can't be weak.

He glances around, and sitting at a nearby table is the bane of his college life.

_/jump in the pool Einstein what are you waiting for Einstein you faggot everybody look at Einstein/_

"Jack," Newton chokes, barely above a whisper.

Jack grins at him, and it is so predatory that Newton wonders how he ever mistook it for something friendly. "Hey there, Einstein."

_/I hate that name I hate that name I hate that name/_

To his horror, Newton's hands start to shake. A cold sweat breaks out on his neck. "What are you doing here?" he mutters, trying to school his expression into something seemingly disinterested. Jack stands up, and with dread Newton registers the sound of his own tray clattering to the floor.

_/don't come near me don't come near me nononono/_

By dropping his tray in fear, Newton has just revealed the hold Jack still has on him, and Jack's grin widens. Self-hatred and incredible fear force a tight grip around Newton, and he curses his clammy hands for dropping the tray. The urge to vomit increases the closer Jack gets.

"It's been a while, hasn't it?" Jack says. He looks at Newton's arms, and smiles. "Tattoos? That's balls-y of you, Einstein."

Newton resists the sudden need to cover them. Having Jack's eyes on his ink makes him feel tainted. They're supposed to be his armor. "What are you doing here?" Newton repeats, stronger this time.

Jack smirks at him. "Isn't it obvious? I work here."

"How long?"

"A few months. They needed manual labor for clean up."

"How come I've never seen you?"

"Because you never leave your lab." Jack sneers, eyeing the bags under Newt's eyes. "I'm right, aren't I? Let me guess, this is your first time out in about... 10 weeks?"

"That's none of your business," Newton breathes.

"Ooh, look at you, getting all feisty," Jack coos, reaching up to pinch Newton's cheek.

_/NO CAN'T LET HIM TOUCH ME DON'T LET HIM TOUCH/_

Newton flinches and smacks Jack's hand. "Don't touch me-!"

Jack grabs him by the collar and shoves him back, leaning into his space. "Careful, Einstein," Jack huffs against Newton's cheek. _/it's just an intimidation tactic don't let him get to you don't react don't react/_  "Someone might think you grew a backbone if you keep acting up."

Newton shudders against Jack's fist and keeps his eyes on the floor.

He is so furious with himself. Years have passed since he last saw this person and Newton's grown, he's made something of himself, and, by God, he saved the damn planet. There is no reason for him to be afraid. He's become twice the man Jack will ever be. He knows this. He tries to tell himself this.

"Let go of me," Newton croaks, inhaling shakily. Jack smirks and steps back, the malice in his eyes shining with victory. Newton turns away from him and decides ignoring him will be for the best.

_/don't let him win never let him win/_

"You know, I missed you, Einstein. You were always so much fun." Newton chances a look through the rest of the mess hall, and sees that everyone in there is watching them. He takes a guess that they witnessed Jack shoving him around. He tries not to be surprised that no one did anything.

_/they just watch all they do is watch they're laughing they just watch me drown/_

He picks up another tray with shaking fingers, the feeling of Jack's eyes burning his skin. He starts to restock his plate, regardless of his lost appetite.

_/tune him out Newt don't listen to a single thing he says/_

"So how's your boyfriend doing? He is your boyfriend, isn't he?"

Newt's heart stutters. He's talking about Hermann. He knows he's talking about Hermann. He's heard enough rumors in passing and jokes directed in his general direction (sometimes it's Hemann's), that he knows he and Hermann are popularly thought of as an item. That could never be the case though, of course. He continues to put food on his tray, and refuses to acknowledge Jack's words.

_/can't let him touch Hermann don't let him near Hermann don't let him speak of Hermann don't let him take Hermann from you too/_

"I'm hardly surprised you really are a faggot. But I was wondering, has he healed alright since that unfortunate incident with his cane?"

Newton's blood goes cold.

The "unfortunate incident" with the cane was almost a month ago. Hermann had been at a meeting, and had left his cane unattended a few feet away. When he had retrieved it, nothing was obviously wrong with it. But when he tried to go down a flight of stairs and put his full weight on it, it snapped. He almost broke his good leg.

At the time, Newton had been out of country for a conference (everybody wanted to hear what he had to say about kaijus and drifting with one), but when he heard the news he was absolutely livid. He saw that cane. It was deliberately cut to snap with enough pressure put on it.

Newton turned back to Jack. Rage began to boil under his fingertips, Jack's smug face fueling his anger. "You did it, didn't you?"

Jack shrugs and grabs an apple from one of the nearby fruit bowls. "Now, what could make you think that? Though, I'm sure that whoever is responsible only did it to spice things up a little. You've seen that guy's face, he always looks so constipated. The expression he made before he fell was a nice change of pace."

Newton saw red.

_/he hurt Hermann he hurt Hermann it's fine if he hurts you he can hurt you if you're hurt Hermann's not hurt but he hurt Hermann he could have killed Hermann HE ALMOST KILLED HERMANN/_

Newton revels in the look in Jack's eyes the moment before his fist makes contact with his proud, disgusting face. He feels more so than hears the crack of Jack's nose. He registers a collective gasp throughout the mess hall, and he sincerely hopes they don't choose this moment to butt in.

Jack looks at him with unshrouded fury and Newton knows it will be bad.

He watches Jack get to his feet and everything feels slow. He takes this moment to allow himself pride for finally punching this scum. Funny that the punch was for Hermann rather than himself.

_/it's because you don't matter but Hermann does Hermann matters so much/_

Jack's fist collides with Newton's jaw and he barely keeps from crying out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hhhhh I hope this is okayyy I've never contributed to this fandom before, so they're probably really out of character.... *spews apologies*


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( German provided by user Hel )

Hermann is uncomfortably anxious. He's been staring at the same equation for the past 25 minutes, and has made no move to complete it. He sighs and sets his chalk down. The room is quiet.

He hates it.

Contrary to popular belief, Hermann doesn't mind Newton's constant chatter and blaring music. In fact, it actually helps him concentrate. Or rather, Newton in general helps him concentrate.

He looks to Newton's side of the lab. It's empty, and has been since Hermann arrived. Initially, he hoped Newton had gone to finally get some rest. But Hermann has been feeling a cacaphony of emotion on Newt's side of the drift, and the current reigning emotions are rage and sorrow, with an underlining of agony. It's worrying, to say the least.

Hermann takes his cane and heads for the door. He may as well check on Newton. There was no way Hermann would have completed anything at the rate he was going, anyway. He just hopes Newton isn't asleep, as there would be a high possibility for him to dream about what Hermann had only hours before.

As he heads down the hall to Newton's quarters, Hermann notices a collection of cadets running in the same direction. They seem to be talking frantically, if not excitedly, and Hermann is afraid that perhaps there was another attack somewhere.

 _Impossible_ , he reminds himself.

He limps towards the cadets and stops one in passing. "Excuse me, but where is everyone going?"

The cadet doesn't take their eyes off of their friends, and without even turning to Hermann, replies, "That one scientist with the tattoos is getting the shit beat out of him!"

"What?" Hermann's world stops. The cadet doesn't reply and hurries forward, off to go watch Newton be physically abused. That thought makes Hermann feel sick, so sick. They were only going to _watch_.

Hermann begins to stomp after the cadets, going as fast as his lame leg could carry. He would not let Newton suffer like this.

_/they only watch all they do is watch/_

Hermann curses the world as he goes, the memory from his dream sitting heavy in his gut. He can feel Newton's distress through the drift, and is enraged with himself for not acting sooner.

He reaches the mess hall and is met with a mass of people upon entering. They're gathered near the food stands and he notices a few nearby tables are turned over.

He can hear shouts of encouragement and shock, along with the occasional sound of flesh being hit. He allows himself a moment to wonder why no attempt has been made to dissipate this gathering, before pushing himself into the crowd. 

"Move, you imbeciles! Let me through!"

He squeezes his way between excited bodies, hitting a few with his cane as he goes, and soon finds himself on the other end.

In the middle of the crowd is Newton, on the floor, with a strangely familiar face looming over him. Hermann quickly identifies the other male as one of the boys from Newton's memory, and feels white hot rage course through his veins. Newton's glasses are smashed, his face bloodied and swelling, his once white shirt now stained with red. The knuckles of his right hand look broken, as does his nose. The nameless figure from Newt's past doesn't look as bad, but still worse for wear. The man grabs Newt by the collar and begins to lift him up, and Hermann notices the way Newt's hair sticks to the concrete, weighed down by blood. He feels fury unlike anything he's ever experienced before.

Neither Newton nor his tormenter have noticed Hermann, so he takes the chance to hit the attacker's fist with his cane.

"Keep your hands off of him, you filthy bastard," Hermann hisses.

* * *

Newton's head rolls back to its spot on the concrete and he drags his eyes towards Hermann's form. Jack chuckles wetly and says, "Well, if it isn't the man of the hour himself."

_/no no no he can't be here don't let Jack near him Jack is going to hurt him Hermann is going to get hurt don't let him get hurt/_

"Hermann," Newton wheezes, stretching his hand towards the mathematician in an attempt to tell him that he has to leave, he can't be here, not near _Jack_. They lock eyes, and Newton is shocked by the obvious worry on Hermann's face.

Jack chooses that moment to kick Newton while his guard's down, and Newton can feel his already broken ribs give under Jack's foot. A strangled cry escapes his lips and he screws his eyes shut in pain. He misses the look of unabashed horror on Hermann's face.

Newton struggles to breathe through the sharp stabbing in his ribs, and slowly tunes back into his surroundings. As he does, he realizes that Jack is on his knees, and Hermann is hitting him with his cane.

"No, Hermann," he gasps, " _Bitte hör auf! Du musst gehen!_ "

 _"Halt die Klappe, du Dummkopf!"_ Hermann shouts, his face an unsightly shade of red. " _Ich werde sie nicht zurücklassen, Dr. Geiszler!_ "

"Please," Newton begs. He has to make Hermann understand that he can't be here, Jack will hurt him, Jack is going to hurt him.

" _Bei allem Respekt, Herr Doctor, bitte halt den Mund_ ," Hermann huffs, turning to Jack with a scowl. " _Ich werde dich sicher nicht zurücklassen, um von dieser Drecksau gefoltert zu werden!_ " Hermann enunciates his words with an additional blow to Jack's head using the butt of his cane, effectively splitting Jack's ear open.

Jack growls, low and guttural, and snatches the end of Hermann's cane before he can pull it back. Newton's heart flutters with panic, and he tries to find the energy to move his limbs, but he's so tired, and he can't move, _he can't move_ , he's just so completely useless.

Newton watches helplessly as Jack yanks the cane from Hermann's grip, and swipes the head of the cane across Hermann's cheek. Hermann falls with a grunt and Newton can see beads of blood forming on Hermann's cheekbone.

Jack stands and he glares down at Hermann, a snarl growing upon his features. He smacks Hermann in the temple with his own cane and Newton whimpers. Jack wipes at the blood running from his nose and he raises the cane to hit Hermann again.

Something in Newton breaks. Glimpses of Hermann's memories flash through his mind, a collection of feelings and thoughts from every time Hermann looked in a mirror and saw his face mottled with bruises. Every time he was abused by his own array of bullies. There is no way Newton is going to let him get hurt again, especially not by someone who wasn't even his bully in the first place.

Newton starts to sit up, and his aching muscles and broken bones scream in protest. He ignores them, and with shaking limbs, pushes himself onto his heels. Sweat and blood fall from his hairline and momentarily blind him, though he doesn't let it stop him from propelling himself towards Jack's silhouette.

* * *

Hermann's head is throbbing. He's having difficulty forming complete thoughts, and he can't seem to focus on much of anything. He's dully aware that there's yelling nearby. He can hear Newton's voice. He's speaking in Yiddish, and Hermann can't understand him. It used to make him angry when Newton spoke Yiddish, because he never knew what Newton was saying, and the unknown bothered him. But now Hermann focuses on the foreign language, Newton's words a stark clarity in the haze of his head injury.

He starts to come back to himself, Newton's voice acting as an anchor. He realizes that Newton is fighting with the attacker, yelling Yiddish at him all the while. He notices that the attacker is yelling Yiddish back.

" _איר זאָל זייַן טויט!_ " Newton screams. " _עס זאָל ווע געווען איר וואָס איז געהרגעט דורך אַ קאַידזשו! עס זאָל ווע געווען איר אַנשטאָט פון קלאַריסע!_ "

Whatever Newton said strikes a sensitive chord with the attacker. Hermann sluggishly watches the man shove Newton onto his back, before taking Hermann's cane and snapping it in half. Newton is stunned by pain, and his attacker takes his chance to grab the half of the cane with the head on it.

"No," Hermann croaks, realizing what's about to happen. "No, no no no." He tries to sit up, but is overcome by dizziness. "Newton, no, Newton!"

Jack lunges at Newton.

Newton's self-preservation kicks in just in time for him to place his knee in Jack's sternum, sending Jack slightly off course. Jack stabs the top half of the cane into Newton's left shoulder, and Newton's screams mingle with the sound of the wood splintering in his flesh.

It's at that moment that the crowd splits, revealing a furious Hercules Hansen with an equally fuming Raleigh Becket and Mako Mori behind him.

There's enough time for fear to register across Jack's face, before Raleigh is knocking him to the ground. Raleigh starts to beat him into submission, and while Hermann would like nothing more than to watch Jack get what he deserves, Newton holds top priority. Just as he always should. 

Hermann makes another attempt at sitting up, and this time Mako is there to help him get halfway off the floor. "Easy, Dr. Gottlieb, easy," she mutters. She takes most of his weight and he thanks her quietly. 

His view of Newton is obstructed, but he can hear groans of pain and the occasional distressed whimper. "Newton, Newton, I need to get to Newton," Hermann whispers breathlessly. 

"I am sorry, Dr. Gottlieb, but we have to get you to the infirmary," Mako says, holding his arm. Paramedics fill his vision, and he starts being manhandled away from the scene.

There's a sudden spike of terror and hurt in the drift, but Hermann's not sure if the emotions are coming from him or Newton.

"No, he needs me,  _er braucht mich_ , I need to get to him," he chokes, trying to fight against the arms holding him back. Mako is pushing against him, her hands running over the worry lines on his face. "Dr. Geiszler will be alright, but you are bleeding and need stitches," she says. "Please, Dr. Gottlieb, you need to be treated."

He's being foolish. He knows he is, he knows it's stupid to leave a wound unattended, but Newton _needs him_ , and they're both in pain, and he suspects proximity will help, they just need each other right now. 

He can hear Newton speaking in multiple panicked tongues.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> Bitte hör auf! Du musst gehen! - (Please stop it! You have to go!)
> 
> Halt die Klappe, du Dummkopf! - (Shut up, you fool!)
> 
> Ich werde sie nicht zurücklassen, Dr.Geiszler! - (I will not leave, Dr.Geiszler!)
> 
> Bei allem Respekt, Herr Doctor, bitte halt den Mund - (With all due respect, Doctor, please shut up)
> 
> Ich werde dich sicher nicht zurücklassen, um von dieser Drecksau gefoltert zu werden! - (I will certainly not leave you to be tortured by this bastard!)
> 
> איר זאָל זייַן טויט! - (You should be dead!)
> 
> עס זאָל ווע געווען איר וואָס איז געהרגעט דורך אַ קאַידזשו! עס זאָל ווע געווען איר אַנשטאָט פון קלאַריסע! - (It should've been you who was killed by a kaiju! Should've been you instead of Klarise!)
> 
> er braucht mich - (he needs me)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my goodness thank you all so much for the feedback!!! ;v; It was a wonderful thing to wake up to this morning, and it's really gotten me wanting to continue this! So thank you again!
> 
> Also, this chapter is pretty multiple-language heavy, and I've been using google translate(I know, I know, shame on me), so I apologize if some of the translations don't make any sense.
> 
> ALSO, I have just found out that HERMANN is of Jewish descent, and not Newton. So, I am going to apologize fervently for having my facts all askew, and apologize even more so for continuing with this hole I've dug myself. In other words, let's just pretend that Newton is of Jewish descent in this fic, and not Hermann.

_"bitte, bitte, wo ist er, muss ich ihn jetzt sehen"_

Hermann is hurt he can feel it Hermann is hurt he's so scared

_"Er braucht mich, er braucht mich, ich ihn brauche, bitte, er ist verletzt"_

His shoulder burns and his face aches and he can't breathe he has to find Hermann

_"To boli, to boli, proszę, potrzebuję Hermann, proszę, nie mogę oddychać"_

There are hands touching him everywhere, and there are people talking, but none of them are Hermann. He's being lifted up and he feels like his world is falling. His ribs are broken. He can't breathe.

_"Wo ist er? Wo ist er? Er ist verletzt, er verletzt wurde, muss er helfen, bitte, ich muss ihm helfen."_

He can't see anything through his ruined glasses and he is _scared_. He can't move his left shoulder.

_"Ich bin so erschrocken. Ich bin so erschrocken. Ich brauche Hermann. Ich kann nicht atmen. Bitte, es schmerzt so sehr. Er hat Schmerzen, ich kann es fühlen."_

He's covered in something warm and sticky. He thinks it might be blood.

_"Я не могу дышать без Германа. Я не могу дышать. Это так больно. Мне нужно видеть Германа. Герман, пожалуйста."_

There's a strong voice somewhere close by.

"Dr. Geiszler. Can you hear me? Stay with us, Doctor, you'll be alright. Listen to me. You'll be fine. Just breathe."

He understands those words. He thinks the voice sounds familiar, and it reminds him of blue oceans and bull dogs and sitting at tables alone.

"Doctor, I need you to focus. Come on, you saved the world, you can save yourself. Take deep breaths. You'll be alright."

He can't breathe. He's hurting everywhere, and he can feel Hermann's pain, and he'll never forgive himself for letting Hermann get hurt. "He's showing signs of traumatic post-drift seperation... Shit. Where's Dr. Gottlieb? Someone find him!"

 _"Ich kann es nicht,"_ he sobs. _"Ich kann es nicht, ich kann nicht, es tut weh, ich Hermann brauchen, er verletzt ist, muss ich wissen, er ist in Ordnung."_

"I can't understand him. Does anyone know what he's saying?"

_"Ich brauche Dr. Gottlieb. Ich brauche seine Hilfe. Hermann. Ich kann nicht atmen. Ich kann das nicht tun. Ich brauche seine Hilfe, ich kann nicht ohne ihn."_

"Hang in there, Newton, just hold on. Where is Dr. Gottlieb? I don't care, he needs to be here now! Just treat him over here!"

He feels like his lungs are burning. He wonders briefly if he's even breathing, but he can't focus on anything. His shoulder is in so much pain.

"Where is he?"

That's Hermann's voice. Hermann is nearby, he can hear him, but he can't see him, _he needs him_ , he starts stretching his good hand towards where he feels Hermann's presence to be.

Hermann takes his hand, and it feels like everything clears up. He takes a gasping breath, and his other hand comes up to take a tight hold of Hermann's wrist.

* * *

 Hermann is startled by the strength in Newton's grip, but more than anything he is relieved to finally be in physical contact with him. He feels whole again, although incredibly dishevelled.

"Hermann, Hermann," Newton whimpers.

Hermann squeezes his hand and shushes him. "Shh, you're alright, it's alright, I'm here."

" _Je suis désolé. Je suis tellement, tellement désolée_ ," Newton mutters, crying. He brings Hermann's hand up to his face, and presses his cheek to it. " _Vous n'étiez pas censé faire mal. Tout est de ma faute, je suis désolé_."

"Newton, _s'il vous plaît, ce n'est pas votre faute. Ne pleure pas. Ne vous excusez pas._ "

Newton's right hand comes up and grips the shoulder of Hermann's coat, and he wrings the fabric in his fist regardless of his broken knuckles. Hermann covers Newton's hand with his own, if only to stop him from worsening his injuries. "Hermann," Newton hiccups, " _Я не могу дышать прямо сейчас. Это так больно. Мне очень жаль. Я знаю, вы можете чувствовать это. Мне очень жаль._ "

"Hush, Newton, hush," Hermann soothes, pressing his lips to Newton's forehead. " _Mein lieber, пожалуйста, внимание на меня. Ты приступ паники._ "

Newton starts speaking in Yiddish again, though it's a phrase that Hermann has heard him use over and over again in his presence. He's spent a long time wondering what it means, but he can't figure it out. Newton uses it at the strangest times, and his emotions are usually different every time he says it. At the moment, he's saying it like it is the most important, most promising thing in the world.

Hermann rubs his thumbs over Newton's cheek, wiping away what tears are there. " _Sie müssen sich beruhigen. Sie sind nicht mehr das Sprechen in Englisch. Bleib bei mir,_ _Newton_."

Newton sobs quietly into his coat lapels, and Hermann only realizes then how little space there is between them. He feels like he should be embarrassed, especially since he's aware of how many people are watching them, but that doesn't matter. Only Newton matters.

"Dr. Gottlieb?" He turns his head, moving as little as possible from Newton, and is met by a nervous looking nurse. "Doctor, I am sorry, but we have to seperate you two. Your injuries must be treated."

"Don't be ridiculous." Herc steps up next to them, and Hermann thanks him inwardly for stepping in. "These two can't possibly be seperated right now. If it'll make it easier, bring Dr. Gottlieb a chair and treat him right here. But, for the love of God, don't seperate them."

"Sir?"

"If any space is put between them, I cannot guarantee that either will be calm enough for you to go near with any sharp objects. Not even blunt objects. If you want to ensure their health and safety, let them stay in physical contact." Herc stands tall, shoulders squared, and leaves no room for argument.

Hermann thanks the stars for his authority, and especially for his understanding. "Thank you," Hermann mumbles, locking eyes with Herc. 

"Any longtime pilot knows what you're going through," Herc says, placing his hand on Hermann's shoulder. "I'll make sure you two stay together." He leaves then, presumably to go deal with the man who had attacked them.

There's a pause, before one of the doctors says, "Alright, you heard the man. Someone get Dr. Gottlieb a chair."

* * *

Hours have passed, and the shatterdome is mostly asleep. Newton and Hermann have been given a private room for recuperation, sectioned off from the rest of the med-bay. Hermann is grateful for the amount of respect they're being shown. It would seem that having friends in high places and being the men that saved the world has its benefits. He runs his fingers through Newton's hair, mindful of the bandages across his temple.

Well. Some benefits.

There are two beds in the room, though the scientists are plastered together on the one bed farthest from the door. Hermann is sitting up, his back against the wall, with Newton's face shoved in his hip. His injured hip, of all things. Newton's arms are wrapped around Hermann's thigh, his non-broken hand holding Hermann's in a death grip. The tight hold is almost painful, but for Hermann it's nothing short of comforting.

Hermann watches Newton's face, and is relieved to see that it is finally lax with sleep. He traces the length of Newton's cheeks with his fingertips, traces them along his brow and jaw. He catalogues every bruise, every cut on Newton's face. He won't let himself ever forget their shape, their color, where they're placed on Newton's features. Can't let himself forget what Newton went through because Hermann didn't get to him soon enough.

He can feel guilt worming its way through his system and is suddenly aware of the lump in his throat. He swallows and rubs his hand down his face tiredly, careful not to disturb the stitches on his own temple. He sits there for a second, eyes closed, and listens to Newton's breathing. He prays that Newton is having a good dream.

He doesn't know how much time he spends memorizing the feeling of Newton breathing against him, before he's interrupted by a knock on the open door. He looks up and is only a little surprised to see Raleigh Becket.

"Mr. Becket," he whispers in greeting.

Raleigh nods in response. "Is it alright if I sit down?" he whispers back. Hermann is pleased to note that Raleigh is making an effort to stay quiet for Newton.

"Of course."

Raleigh takes the only chair in the room and places it next to the door, facing the bed. Hermann recognizes the amount of space given as a way to give him the sense of privacy. He knew there was a reason he's been rooting for Raleigh since he first met him.

Raleigh rubs his hands together and keeps his head down, and after a while looks back up at Hermann. "I came here to tell you that Jackson Fleischer is out of the shatterdome," Raleigh whispers. He chuckles and rubs his eyes. "Actually, to be honest, I'm not even sure if he's in the country anymore."

Hermann nods, accepting the information. So the man's name was Jackson Fleischer. German last name, coincidentally meaning butcher. He looks down at Newton and runs his hand over the man's scalp. Hermann hopes he'll be relieved to hear Jackson is gone.

"How is he?"

Hermann looks up at Raleigh, observing the sincere concern. "Better. He's finally resting."

Raleigh nods. "Good. That's good."

"Has Marshall Hansen spoken with anyone that had been in the mess hall?" Hermann asks, looking back down at Newton. 

"Yes, but only with a few of them. Most of them scattered when we showed up."

Hermann rubs his thumb over the bandages peeking up from Newton's shirt collar. "Any information on what started the fight?"

"No, not really. Fleischer claimed that Newton struck first, and his claim was confirmed by those who had been in the mess when it started. My guess is that Fleischer did or said something to provoke Newton. Unless, Dr. Geiszler just acted without any prior-"

"No," Hermann interjects, frowning. "I know that it seems as though Newton does many things without reason, but I don't believe this to be such an instance." He looks up at Raleigh, and strokes his fingers over Newton's jaw as he speaks. "Fleischer was no stranger. I've seen him in Newton's memories."

Raleigh pauses. "Would it be safe to assume that he was malevolent in those memories?"

"He was worse than you think."

Raleigh huffs a quiet laugh. "Well, based on how he treated you two today, I'm hardly surprised."

 Hermann considers Raleigh for a moment, but looks back down when Newton's breathing pattern changes. Small whimpers start to escape from Newton's parted lips, and Hermann threads his fingers through Newton's hair. "Hush, _liebste, es ist in Ordnung_ ," he whispers. " _Alles ist in Ordnung_. _Ich werde Sie sicher zu halten._ " He squeezes Newton's hand, and continues to pet his hair until his breathing evens back out.

Hermann looks back up at Raleigh, expecting to see a teasing smile, or perhaps disgusted eyes, but all he's met with is a look of complete understanding. He blinks, taken aback, and looks back down at Newton. He continues his ministrations through Newton's hair, when Raleigh speaks up.

"How did you guys learn to speak like that?"

Hermann glances at Raleigh, furrowing his brows questioningly. "How did we learn to speak German?"

Raleigh shrugs. "Not just German, you guys were speaking other languages earlier. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, I'm just curious."

Hermann sits back a little and stares at Newton's glasses on the nightstand. "Both Dr. Geiszler and I are German. It's our home language." He rubs strands of Newton's hair between his fingers, observing the numerous cracks on the lenses. "We're both fluent in Polish, French, and Russian. We learned when we were stationed in the homelands of the aforementioned languages. France and Poland was before the Kaiju war. He speaks broken Japanese, I speak a minimal amount of Chinese. He learned Japanese for recreational purposes, I learned Chinese when we were moved here." He runs his fingers over Newton's cheek. "Newton is fluent in Yiddish. I am not. I haven't found the time to learn the language myself."

"I see," Raleigh mutters, nodding. "So, if you're both German, how is it you have a perfect British accent, and Newt has a perfect American accent? It's been bugging me for a while."

Hermann opens his mouth to answer, when Raleigh interrupts. "Wait, no, shit- Sorry, I'm sorry, I'm being really intrusive. Don't answer, it's alright."

Raleigh moves to get up, and Hermann holds up his hand. "Sit down, Mr. Becket. You needn't worry." Raleigh eyes him warily, but finally settles back down, and Hermann continues. "In truth, I appreciate you being here and talking to me. You're helping me keep my mind off of... things." He looks down at Newton, analyzing the strands of hair between his fingers. "But to answer your question, the reason we don't have German accents is because we had to adapt accordingly, I guess you could say. You see, Newton was the second youngest student admitted to MIT. That made him not only a genius, but a young one. Naturally, the biggest and burliest would be envious of his academic prowess. He was a threat to them. They needed reasons to belittle him. They pointed out his flaws, his German accent among them. It made him foreign, different. When you're like us, Mr. Becket, you have to try to not be as different as possible. You make changes to yourself so you don't stand out too much. Newton was still impressionable, though, so he didn't have too much difficulty changing his speaking voice. Staying in America for as long as he did had a significant effect, as well."

Hermann strokes his thumb over Newt's forehead, his fingers tangling in his hair. If he thinks about it, Hermann's not sure if Newton ever told him those things out loud. He cards his hand through Newton's hair for a few more breaths, before he continues.

"It was a bit more difficult for me to change," he says. "I stayed in Germany for many years. I studied at TU, in Berlin. I'd had some exposure to other places prior, but after I graduated, I was moved to Oxford for a while. To teach. Now, the thing about university is that cruelty isn't subjective to age group. Professors can be just as bad as students. Not obviously so, no physical harassment or plans of sabotage, just snide remarks here and there. Comments are said under breath, or in passing. Things that pointed out the inferiority of my leg. Or my language. I reasoned that they acted the way they did because they perceived me as a threat to their job. Always, it comes back to the fact that we were considered threats. You'd think that would be a confidence booster."

Hermann's hand stills over Newton's bandages, and he looks up at Raleigh. "I took speaking lessons to change my voice, Mr. Becket. I erased the German from my tongue. Sometimes I regret it, but, to be honest... I was so relieved when I found out Newton was German-born with an American accent. He made me feel like I hadn't failed completely. ...Like I wasn't alone." Raleigh holds Hermann's gaze, with no contempt or disappointment obvious in his eyes. Hermann swallows and restarts the process of running his hand through Newt's hair. He feels so tired. He hasn't spoken of personal experiences in months, maybe years. At least, not to anyone who isn't Newt. It must be a testament to how tired he is, or perhaps it's an effect of painkillers. He thinks he took pain killers, but so much time has passed he's not sure. He's just glad that it was Raleigh he spoke to.

A sudden flare of pain shoots up through his ribs and left shoulder, and he lets out a surprised grunt. Raleigh looks at him questioningly. "Dr. Geiszler is waking up," he offers as explanation.

Raleigh mutters a small, "oh", and stands up. He moves his chair back and nods at Hermann. "Thank you, Dr. Gottlieb, for trusting me. I'll leave you two to each other, now."

"Thank you, Mr. Becket."

Raleigh leaves and Newton starts to stir. He smooshes his face into Hermann's side, and mumbles, "Oh, God, that hurts."

"Newton."

Newton curls around Hermann's side and leg, and Hermann can feel his ribs and shoulder burning. "Newton, stop that, it hurts."

Newton flinches away, and he looks up at Hermann with sleep heavy, apologetic eyes. "Shit, sorry, did I mess up your hip?"

"No, you idiot. Your ribs and shoulder hurt. Lay down on your back, it'll feel better."

Newton nuzzles into Hermann's thigh, and he mutters, "Hell no, you're way too warm. I don't wanna move."

Hermann rolls his eyes, and whispers, "You self-destructive lunatic."

Newton chuckles and Hermann's chest tightens. It feels like forever since he's heard him laugh. "Newton, please lie down properly."

"Just give up, old man, I told you I don't feel like moving."

Hermann splutters indignantly. "What- Old man? I'm only a half year older than you!"

Newton snorts, and says, "Yeah, but you act old. You old soul."

Hermann huffs and glares down at Newton's head. "You are such a child."

Newton grins into Hermann's leg. "I guess that means we complete each other. What's that old saying? Opposites attract?" 

Hermann ignores his awful, horrible, fluttering heart, and replies quietly, "Something like that."

Newton doesn't say anything further and continues to smile. Hermann runs his hand through Newton's hair, and Newton grunts happily. "You really like my hair, don't you?" Newton slurs.

Hermann raises his brow and mutters, "It is soft."

Newton hums. "I was expecting you to say you like it because you're balding."

"I am not-!"

Newton lets out a barking laugh, and immediately Hermann is overcome with a stabbing pain in his ribs. His eyelids and teeth clench tight with the pain, and Hermann realizes that the knuckles of his right hand are hurting. He starts to take shallow breaths, and eventually navigates his way out of the worst of the pain. As he opens his eyes, he realizes that Newton is squeezing his hand, and that his broken one has a tight hold of Hermann's shirt. "Newton," Hermann gasps, "let go of my shirt. You're straining your knuckles." Newton releases his hand, and Hermann can feel the pain slowly drift from his own hand. 

He takes a few deep breaths and looks down at Newton when the pain doesn't lessen in his ribs. "Newton, will you lay back now? If laughing was as painful for you as it was for me, you'll want to straighten out. There's too much pressure on your torso when you're curled up like this."

Newton nods his head and slowly starts to untangle himself from Hermann. Hermann can feel his own ribs tighten when Newton starts to straighten out, and it unfortunately takes a good long while for him to uncurl entirely. Newton groans once he does and Hermann exhales tiredly. He runs his hand through Newton's hair once more, before he starts to lay himself down next to the other man. Newton glances at him sharply, apparently not expecting Hermann to have put so little space between them.

Hermann faces Newton and settles in the bed completely. They're close enough for their noses to touch. "Newton," Hermann whispers. "Don't freak out. I'm laying down because my hip is starting to hurt."

"I know," Newton says immediately. Hermann raises a brow. Newton huffs a breath against Hermann's lips. "I can feel it." Hermann watches him for a moment, before he carefully wraps an arm under Newton's back and pulls him close. Newton makes a sort of startled noise at the back of his throat. "Hermann?"

"The other reason I'm doing this is because you said you were cold," Hermann says against Newton's forehead. "You tense up when you're cold, and that won't be good for your ribs. Now sleep, Newton."

Newton raises his head and his nose grazes the underside of Hermann's chin. "Hermann," Newton mumbles.

Hermann closes his eyes and places his lips to Newton's forehead. "Sleep,  _liebste._ We can talk more in the morning. I know you're tired."

Newton sighs, and nestles in closer. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> bitte, bitte, wo ist er, muss ich ihn jetzt sehen - (please, please, where is he, I need to see him now)
> 
> Er braucht mich, er braucht mich, ich ihn brauche, bitte, er ist verletzt - (He needs me he needs me, I need him, please, he's hurt)
> 
> To boli, to boli, proszę, potrzebuję Hermann, proszę, nie mogę oddychać - (It hurts, it hurts, please, I need Hermann, please, I can not breathe)
> 
> Wo ist er? Wo ist er? Er ist verletzt, er verletzt wurde, muss er helfen, bitte, ich muss ihm helfen. - (Where is he? Where is he? He's hurt, he was injured, he must help, please, I must help him.)
> 
> Ich bin so erschrocken. Ich bin so erschrocken. Ich brauche Hermann. Ich kann nicht atmen. Bitte, es schmerzt so sehr. Er hat Schmerzen, ich kann es fühlen. - (I'm so scared. I'm so scared. I need Hermann. I can not breathe. Please, it hurts so much. He's in pain, I can feel it.)
> 
> Я не могу дышать без Германа. Я не могу дышать. Это так больно. Мне нужно видеть Германа. Герман, пожалуйста. - (I can not breathe without Herman. I can not breathe. It hurts so much. I want to see Herman. Herman, please.)
> 
> Ich kann es nicht, ich kann nicht, es tut weh, ich Hermann brauchen, er verletzt ist, muss ich wissen, er ist in Ordnung. - (I can not, I can not, it hurts, I need Hermann, he's hurt, I need to know he is okay.)
> 
> Ich brauche Dr. Gottlieb. Ich brauche seine Hilfe. Hermann. Ich kann nicht atmen. Ich kann das nicht tun. Ich brauche seine Hilfe, ich kann nicht ohne ihn. - (I need Dr. Gottlieb. I need his help. Hermann. I can not breathe. I can not do that. I need his help, I can not live without him.)
> 
> Je suis désolé. Je suis tellement, tellement désolée - (I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry)
> 
> Vous n'étiez pas censé faire mal. Tout est de ma faute, je suis désolé. - (You were not supposed to hurt. Everything is my fault, I'm sorry.)
> 
> s'il vous plaît, ce n'est pas votre faute. Ne pleure pas. Ne vous excusez pas. - (please, this is not your fault. Do not cry. Do not apologize.)
> 
> Я не могу дышать прямо сейчас. Это так больно. Мне очень жаль. Я знаю, вы можете чувствовать это. Мне очень жаль. - (I can not breathe right now. It hurts so much. I'm sorry. I know you can feel it. I'm sorry.)
> 
> Mein lieber - (My dear)
> 
> пожалуйста, внимание на меня. Ты приступ паники. - (please focus on me. You're having a panic attack.)
> 
> Sie müssen sich beruhigen. Sie sind nicht mehr das Sprechen in Englisch. Bleib bei mir, Newton. - (You need to calm down. You are no longer speaking in English. Stay with me, Newton.)
> 
> liebste, es ist in Ordnung - (dearest, it's alright)
> 
> Alles ist in Ordnung. Ich werde Sie sicher zu halten. - (Everything is fine. I will keep you safe.)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MERRY CHRISTMAS~!! Here's an update as a Christmas gift! :)
> 
> (I realize it's three years late... hahaha...)

It’s a long, arduous journey back to consciousness for Newton. He drifts in and out of sleep for a while, but is brought back when an endless aching refuses to dissipate. He’s beyond sore, though he can’t remember why. Maybe he passed out in the lab again.

 

Newt groans and rolls his neck, and freezes when it suddenly pulls on something in his shoulder. His wounded shoulder.

 

He gasps and opens his eyes, recalling the day before. Jack. Jack was there. Jack was there and he hurt him and-

 

Hermann.

 

Without thinking, he twists his torso around to figure out where he is - more importantly, where _Hermann_ is- but he jolts and tenses when pain shoots across his ribs. He closes his eyes and swallows back what moan wants to crawl from his throat.

 

Even though he’s sure he kept from moaning, the sound of rumbling vocal chords still fills his ears. And then he realizes he’s not the one making the noise. Careful not to move too much this time, he blearily blinks his eyes open and looks around himself.

 

Beside him, only a breath away, lay Hermann. His eyes are closed and a frown is tugging at his face.

 

Newton wants to run his fingers over the frown lines until they're smoothed out. What stops him, however, is the bandages covering Hermann’s temple. Newton stares hard at them.

 

Hermann got hurt. Because of _him_ , Hermann got hurt. He let him get hurt because he was too weak. His fingers tighten around the sheets draped around them, but stops when a bolt of pain shoots up his right hand.

 

He closes his eyes and breathes his way through the discomfort, focusing on his lungs expanding and the throbbing he can feel just beneath every inch of skin.

 

“Newton,” a soft, groggy voice croons.

 

Hesitantly, Newton opens his eyes to meet Hermann’s. “Herm,” he mutters.

 

“You’re awake.”

 

A sharp reply of ‘obviously’ sits on the tip of his tongue, but he can’t manage to get it out. He doesn’t feel like holding banter with Hermann. He doesn’t feel like he deserves it.

 

The mathematician in question shuffles lower on the bed and closer to Newt, and manages to hold back the majority of his groans.

 

Even though trying to hide his physical pain is pointless. Newt can feel it through the drift.

 

“How are you feeling?” Hermann asks, once he’s situated.

 

“I feel fine,” Newton mutters. This is new territory and he doesn’t really know what to do. They’ve never really talked about… their _feelings_ before. Least of all with each other. Then again, ever since the drift, they haven’t ever really had to. “I’m fine.”

 

Hermann frowns at him, eyes scrunched into a disbelieving glare. “Liar.”

 

A breathless snort bubbles out of Newton and he huffs, “Then why even ask if you already know the answer?”

 

Hermann hums for a moment, before saying. “It’s the principle of the thing.”

 

Newt scoffs and rolls his eyes.

 

They’re laying so close together. Newton can feel the warmth radiating off of his companion, and he wants to snuggle closer. But he knows that, regardless of the fact that they _were_ in bed together, Hermann would never allow it. At least, he doesn’t think so.

 

“Hermann, what happened to…” His voice catches in his throat and it takes him a second to swallow it back down. “Jack?” he finally croaks.

 

Hermann releases a grunt of distaste. “I wouldn’t know. I’ve been staying with you.”

 

For a brief second, Newton’s chest warms at the notion. But he also gets the feeling that Hermann’s been staying in the medical ward not because of Newton necessarily, but because of his own injuries.

 

Newton eyes the bandage across Hermann’s brow and he’s tempted to run his fingers across it. Remind himself that he let Hermann get hurt.

 

Without looking away from the bandage, he mutters, “ _איך בין נעבעכדיק. ביטע מוחל מיר_.”

 

Hermann watches Newton’s face, before he says, “What are you saying?”

 

Newton looks back into Hermann’s eyes, and he whispers, “I’m sorry, Hermann. I’m so sorry.” He does his best to keep his voice steady.

 

Hermann huffs and gently pulls Newton closer to himself. “Oh, not this again,” he sighs, tucking Newton’s head under his chin.

 

Newton’s body tingles from being held so close.

 

“You’re an absolute fool, Geiszler,” Hermann says into his hair. “And you have a nasty habit of taking credit for things that aren’t yours. Especially faults.”

 

Newton closes his eyes and says, “Well, regardless. _נעבעכדיק_.”

 

Hermann makes a sort of grunt at the back of his throat, and pulls away enough to look Newton in the eye. “You just reminded me of something I’ve been meaning to ask you,” he says.

 

Newton shifts slightly. “Yeah? About what?”

 

“It’s a Yiddish phrase I always hear you use, and I want to know what it means.”

 

Newton swallows roughly and tries to focus on the pain in his shoulder. If Hermann is talking about what he thinks he is, Newton’s not so sure he can handle this conversation right now. “I say a lot of things in Yiddish. Wh- what does it sound like?”

 

“ _איך ליבע איר_.”

 

Oh God. Hearing Hermann say the words is almost earth shattering. Newton feels like he might puke, especially knowing Hermann has no idea what they mean.

 

“Well..” Newton swallows again, and adamantly stares at the wall behind Hermann. “You can feel my emotions when I say it, can’t you?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Then what does it feel like?”

 

Hermann frowns in Newton’s peripheral, and he is genuinely curious as to how the phrase feels for Hermann. “It feels like my internal organs are failing. Like I can’t breathe.” Hermann runs a hand over Newton’s hair, and Newton is convinced he’s going to have a heart attack. “It makes me feel sick to my stomach.”

 

Ouch. Maybe Newton shouldn’t tell him what it means.

 

“Maybe I shouldn’t tell you what it means.”

 

“It’s important, though, isn’t it?” Hermann says, his fingers scraping against the hair on the nape of Newt’s neck. “There was a point yesterday where… where it was the only thing you could say. You wouldn’t take your eyes off of me as long as you were saying it.”

 

Newton drags his eyes back to Hermann’s, and he thinks, ‘to Hell with it’. He can’t keep it from Hermann forever. Sounds like he was being a huge sap yesterday, anyway.

 

“It means ‘I love you’.”

 

Hermann’s hand stills on Newton’s neck, and Newton exhales in resignation. He’s sure his heart is about to beat it’s way from his chest, but that couldn’t be any more painful than what rejection Hermann is about to deal.

 

Newton knew he couldn’t be loved back, which is why he always spoke his heart in a language nobody else could understand. Most of all Hermann.

 

“ _איך ליבע איר_ ,” Hermann says, slowly, delicately, as though he were tasting the words.

 

Newton closes his eyes and nods, biting on his lip. “Yeah. You caught me.” His voice cracks, and he rubs his broken knuckles into his broken ribs. The sharp physical pain is preferred to what emotional storm is building in his gut.

 

“No, Newton,” Hermann whispers, grabbing Newton’s broken hand and stopping its ministrations against his ribs. “ _איך ליבע איר_.”

 

Newton frowns, and opens his eyes to Hermann’s. Does he realize what he’s saying? Is he saying it for clarification?

 

Is he _teasing_ Newton? “Hermann?”

 

Hermann frowns at him, and he brings his hand up to cradle Newton’s jaw. “ _איך ליבע איר_ ,” he says.

 

“Hermann, what-?”

 

Hermann presses his lips to Newton’s brow, and Newton’s breath catches in his chest. “ _Je t'aime_ ,” Hermann says. He presses his lips against the bandage on Newt’s forehead, and brings his other hand up to caress Newton’s cheek. “ _Я люблю тебя_.”

 

Newton closes his eyes, and whimpers, small and disbelieving.

 

“ _Kocham cię_.” Hermann kisses Newton’s eyelid, and the other. “ _我爱你_ ,” he says. Newton clenches his closed lids tighter, his good hand curls around Hermann’s wrist. He’s not sure he can remember how to breathe right now. He feels like crying.

 

“Newton,” Hermann mutters, close and soft. Newton opens his eyes, looking only at the sheets for a moment, before bringing them up to Hermann’s. Hermann holds his gaze, and runs his thumb over Newton’s cheek, before he leans in cautiously. Newton realizes Hermann is giving him enough time to turn away, should he want to.

 

Like Hell he’d want to.

 

Newton leans forward the rest of the way, until their lips meet in a gentle press. Hermann’s lips are a little chapped and sharp, but as a whole, his mouth is incredibly soft. Newton presses closer against him, his nose pushed against Hermann’s cheek. It’s almost painfully chaste, but it leaves Newton breathless. He’s not entirely sure he’ll ever be able to take a full breath of air again.

 

Hermann pulls away, his eyes still closed, and Newton tries to breathe. Hermann smooths his hands over Newton’s cheeks, his hand settling against Newton’s injured shoulder, before he opens his eyes.

 

“ _Ich liebe dich_ ,” he says, and he sounds just as breathless as Newton.

 

Newton licks his lips, and swallows around a dry throat. “Do you mean that?” he croaks.

 

“Of course I do, you idiot,” Hermann huffs, frowning around the color coating his cheeks.

 

“ _Du liebst mich_?” Newton whispers. He feels like he might cry. Damn these pain killers for making him so emotional. “Really?”

  
Hermann leans forward, and kisses the tip of Newton’s broken nose. “ _Wirklich_.”

 

 

 


End file.
